


Lord I Never Drew (First)

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Young Guns (Movies)
Genre: Billy Is A Nutcase, Everybody's sad., M/M, Talking, Tunstall Is Dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24174367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: Tunstall Has Just Died. The Regulators Begin Their Journey Of Vengeance.
Relationships: Jose Chavez y Chavez/Josiah "Doc" Scurlock
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Lord I Never Drew (First)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elamae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elamae/gifts).



> My Second YG Story Today- A Record!

_Dead. Gone. Buried._

They were packing. Gathering clothing, rummaging underneath beds and within chests of drawers, determining what would be used and what would just be dead weight, barely talking, not daring to, hardly seeming to breathe as they worked through not only The Bunkhouse, but The Main House, neither of which they would return to, that was for certain. Within Both Buildings, A Family Structure once lived, and there was no Family without Tunstall, no life to be lived here, neither on that Property nor Lincoln County. Whatever lay ahead, there would be no return to the place that, once upon a time, could be called 'Home'

"They killed him." Billy said, suddenly, breaking the silence that had enveloped them, and Charlie, who'd been discreetly wiping at His eyes, startled, and Dick nearly dropped something that looked delicate and fragile and _glass,_ probably in the midst of moving it somewhere, seeing as how such a thing seemed to have little value beyond having once, maybe, been a source of pride for Tunstall, and would not only take up space, but probably break not a minute after they left. "You don't say." Steve said, dryly and plainly, and for once, Chavez found himself more annoyed with Billy than with Steve, who was racist and an idiot but at least was respectful. To Tunstall, anyway. 

"No, They..they killed him, no remorse, no nothing." Billy continued, with fervor that seemed misplaced, with excitement and with bright, wide eyes that spoke of danger, that spoke of force, that spoke of much more than any words could say. Chavez felt inclined to point out that Billy had killed People with no remorse, though They hadn't been innocent. Tunstall had. Tunstall hadn't deserved that fate, that painful death. He'd been dead before anybody has reached Him, long having stopped breathing before Dick kneeled down and pronounced him Dead, but there may have been a moment, between then and there, that Tunstall had lay there, in agony, in pain, because of Men with a Grudge and Because There hadn't been anyone to help, anyone to notice. Tunstall was Dead, and it just wasn't One persons fault. It was the work of multiple people, and it just hadn't happened over a day. It was an ending to years of animosity, of hate and not understanding that Tunstall only meant good. He didn't want violence or trouble, He just wanted peace, and He'd tried, but couldn't find any, not in Lincoln County, at least. 

"Yes, but I don't think you're going at it with the right intentions, Billy." Dick said, setting down the Vase He'd been holding, watching Billy with dark, careful eyes. He was just as saddened as the rest of them, but He was the eldest, and the first to be brought into Tunstalls's makeshift family- He was leader, and was under the impression, if his lack of discernable facial expression was anything to go by, that any sign of grief would tear apart whatever semblance of calm and control was left. 

Chavez agreed. He nodded to support, and turned around, sheathing his knives with tender care. He felt heavy, and tired, and He missed Tunstall with a sort of desperation. At first, back when Chavez had first round himself in The Ranch, He couldn't have cared less about Tunstall, but now, here, He felt like every step was brought down by lead attached to his boots, and He felt so tired, and He felt so drained. But there was packing to do, and there was also the knowledge that if He didn't, then there was anything of distraction, nothing to prevent his thoughts from going to unwanted places, places where you fell into a deep whole of sadness and despair. 

And then there was Doc. Poor Doc, silent and solemn, Folding Clothes, looking as lost as Chavez felt. Unlike Chavez, Doc got attached, and got close, which probably made the transition of living without Tunstall a bit harder. Chavez reached out and briefly, quickly, placed His Hand stop Doc's comfortingly, trying to convey everything He couldn't say into that moment of contact. Doc gave him a grateful look, but that look of sadness seemed to intensify, as if that second of comfort reminded him of what he had lost. 

They were going. They were leaving behind the only home any of them had ever knew in a long while. They wouldn't come back, and this House would sit, and crumble, and everything Tunstall had worked so hard for would be left, gathering dust, perhaps to be stolen, or to stay until the end of time. 

Tunstalls's Grave would sit, and nobody would pay their respects, give flowers, it would just be forgotten. Just like them. 

Oh, how Life was such a previous thing. One minute, it was there, right before it was snuffed out like a candle between two fingers. 

Chavez sighed. He gave Doc a meaningful look, one that said so much but left so much out, too. But Doc was Clever, And He knew what Chavez was trying to convey. While everybody was distracted, Doc slipped His Hand into Chavez's, and Chavez squeezed reassuringly, and then they were back, packing and thinking, not knowing what was coming ahead, but knowing they'd be alright. 


End file.
